A Matter of Trust
by Lady Emily
Summary: Sometimes the people you trust let you down. Nancy and the Hardys work through a small betrayal turned deadly. Tag to "A Question of Guilt" - with a twist.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hey y'all. Sorry it's been so long; I've been wanting to write and I'm just blocked. Thus, I present this (short) story that I've been meaning to write forever, and which (fair warning!) contains spoilers for the Supermystery _A Question of Guilt_ starting... now. I wanted to love that one since it came right after SotN and it takes place like forty minutes from my hometown and the idea of Nan and the Hardys working opposite sides of a case was just so promising, but... Joe can't be kind of one of the culprits. That's not how the Hardy Boys work.

Anyways, this is a tag to AQoG with a twist: what if Joe hadn't gotten to the bad guy in time to stop him from crashing the boat with Nancy on board?

Incidentally, there is a partially-written part II to this story which deals with Frank's reaction to what happened, in case anyone's interested in THAT sort of thing lol. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters.

* * *

The first thing Nancy Drew noticed upon waking was _pain_.

It wasn't just the pounding headache she usually experienced when returning to consciousness after being knocked out for some reason or another, although that was present too; her whole body felt like one huge bruise. There was an electronic beeping sound somewhere in the room, the sheets were coarse and starchy under her... she was in a hospital. Nothing new there.

There was a hand holding hers, one too warm, too strong to be her father's. _Frank_, she thought, her heart fluttering just the slightest bit at the thought of the older Hardy brother. ..._Or maybe Buff_.

Buff Bellamy. A rush of memories came back to her suddenly, reminding her of how she had gotten here in the first place. When Buff had been arrested for murder based on evidence uncovered by Frank and Joe Hardy, Carson Drew, Nancy's father and a prominent defense lawyer, had gotten him off on a technicality. With both Drews convinced that Buff was innocent, they reopened the investigation with the help of the Vidocq Society—and the reluctant assistance of the Hardys. By posing as Buff's girlfriend, Nancy had been able to visit the Bellamy estate to investigate. She had accompanied Buff's brother, Cris, on a boat ride in order to get him out of the house so that the Hardys could search it for what they believed was the key to the whole case: a missing will.

But Cris had figured out that she wasn't who she said she was. The last thing Nancy remembered was him confessing to the murder while donning his safety gear, preparing to stage a boat "accident"... one which would be fatal for Nancy.

With that thought, she forced her eyes to open, surprised when the first thing she saw was the wide blue eyes of Joe Hardy. "Joe..." she rasped weakly. It hurt to talk—her throat, even the inside of her lungs felt sore. The vague nausea that typically accompanied a minor concussion seemed to be surfacing as well. "...Why are you holding my hand? It's weird."

He smiled, but it didn't reach all the way to his eyes. He didn't release her hand. "Guess I should have let Frank stay with you then, huh?"

"No comment." Nancy said. Her lips were so cracked and dry that she tasted blood when she smiled, but that didn't matter now. "What happened? Cris? The will?"

"We found the will. Turns out it would have publicly soiled the Bellamy family name and left nearly everything to Laurel Kenway." Joe explained. "Which was why Cris killed her."

Nancy nodded. "He admitted as much to me on the boat. That's about the last thing I remember."

"When we realized what Cris had done we followed you in the seaplane." Joe said. "When we got there it was too late—the bastard had already crashed the boat."

"But you caught him, right?" Nancy pressed. "Tell me you caught him."

"We caught him." Joe scowled. "He was just floating there in his lifejacket, barely a scratch on him. Where was he going to go? He was trying to make it look like an accident."

"He must have known when you came after him that the jig was up, you wouldn't believe it was an accident." Nancy frowned. "He didn't even try to run?"

"He was dazed. In shock. I think the accident was a little worse than he'd anticipated." The words didn't seem to be coming easy for him as he continued, "The boat was... it was a flaming wreck."

Nancy's eyebrows came together in concern and confusion. "But then... how did I survive?"

Finally, Joe let go of her hand. "You were thrown clear by the impact, but knocked unconscious. I jumped into the river and dragged you to shore."

"Oh." Nancy said. Then she frowned. "Wait. When you say you jumped into the river... you mean... out of the _plane_?"

Joe shrugged. "Frank brought it down as low as he could."

"Are you insane?" Nancy didn't even try to hide her shock. "You could have died!"

"_You_ pretty much did." Joe shot back. "You were half-drowned when I got to you. I did CPR for over a minute before you started breathing again."

"You—what?" Nancy's mouth fell open. "Seriously? Oh my god, Joe... I... Thank you."

"Don't thank me." Joe ran a hand over his blond hair and fixed his gaze squarely on the floor. "You would have done the same for me."

"...I... would have _tried._" Nancy said. "Honestly, that's amazing. I don't know how you managed—"

"I had to, Nance. I'm not sorry I did it, and I would do it again, and I'll do it anytime you need me to, because that's the kind of thing you do for your friends, but in this case... I _really_ had to."

"Joe? I'm not followi—"

He cut her off again. "It was my fault, Nancy. Didn't you wonder how Cris knew your real identity? Well, it was in the newspapers this morning. The real papers, this time. Brenda Carlton sent the whole story to her father and blew your cover, and it was my fault. I called Brenda in. I'm the leak."

Feeling a little bit blindsided, Nancy bit back her first reaction—a denial—sensing that it would only make Joe feel worse. The media leaks that had been plaguing the entire investigation had been such a nuisance that maybe she should have suspected that Joe Hardy was behind them... but she hadn't. "It's okay." she said finally.

"No, it's not okay!" Joe burst out, making direct eye contact for the first time since he'd explained what happened, and using it to look at her like she had two heads. "I blew your cover! I almost got you killed!"

"You didn't blow my cover." Nancy shrugged it off. "Even if Brenda hadn't, someone else would have. It was a pretty thin disguise anyway. And you didn't know what would happen."

"That's not really an excuse." Joe said miserably. "I screwed up, and you almost died. Actually, it's worse than that, because it wasn't an accidental screw-up; I did it intentionally, to make things harder for you."

"Joe, relax. I—" But he shook his head, and the haunted look in his eyes stopped her mid-word.

"Don't tell me to relax, Nance. When I saw that boat... the fire, the shrapnel..."

He was trying to psych himself up enough to go on, but he didn't need to. Nancy knew that he meant he'd been thinking of the terrorist bomb that had demolished his car over a year ago—and vaporized his then-girlfriend Iola Morton. She reached over and took his hand again. "Joe, stop. Please stop."

Joe sighed. "What happened to her was senseless violence and bad timing. If it had happened to you, because of something I did out of malice—"

He was spiraling into self-loathing, and no matter how annoyed she was about the media leaks, that was the last thing she wanted to see happen. "Malice is a strong word, Joe." Nancy said with a roll of her eyes that said she thought he was being much too overdramatic. "And honestly, I don't think it's in you. You made a mistake and you fixed it. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Says the girl with the black eye, the bleeding lip, and a couple quarts of the Delaware in her lungs." Joe said ruefully.

Grimacing, Nancy reached for a tissue to dab the blood from her mouth. "I've had worse, Joe. And I'm super-impressed by the plane-jumping thing. As far as I'm concerned, we're okay."

"Nance..." he still looked uneasy, torn between wanting to put it behind him and his own guilt.

"If it helps at all, once I stop feeling like I might throw up, I'm planning on being a real jerk about the fact that I told you Buff was innocent from the very beginning." Nancy said lightly.

A tiny smile played on Joe's lips. "That's more than fair."

"...Hey Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"I _told_ you so."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to LazyPanther, max2013, Caranath, bookaholic2000, guest, FreshKicks, and VerityD for your reviews, and also to those of you who read, followed, and favorited the story. I greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy part two!

* * *

"Nancy!" Fenton Hardy looked up with concern when Nancy entered the hospital waiting room. "Are you sure you should be out of bed?" Frank, who'd been talking to his father, jumped out of his seat and offered her an arm to steady her, but she just shook her head.

In truth, she wasn't sure she was technically supposed to be out of bed, but she'd been too stir-crazy to stay there for long. "I just wanted to see if my father was here yet." Carson had had to return to River Heights for the bulk of the Bellamy investigation, but had bought a plane ticket back to Philadelphia upon hearing of Nancy's injuries, regardless of her insistence that she was fine.

Fenton gave her a stern look that was, indeed, very reminiscent of Carson. "I believe we told you that he would be in to see you as soon as he got here." he reminded her, letting her know that he didn't think much of her excuse for being up and about. He checked his watch. "Although, as it happens, I need to be off soon to pick him up at the airport." He looked at her expectantly. "Can I walk you back to your room?"

"Actually..." Nancy reached over and took the arm Frank had just offered her. "I was hoping I could convince Frank to take me down to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee."

"I'm sure he'd be happy to bring you one." Fenton said, hiding a smile.

Nancy shook her head. "He never fixes it right unless I'm there." she accused, secretly enjoying the way Frank fought not to roll his eyes.

"We'll be quick." Frank promised his father, taking up her case. "She'll be back in her room before you get back with Mr. Drew."

Fenton nodded. "Make sure that she is. I don't want Carson thinking I'm a party to Nancy's disregarding doctors' orders." He shrugged into his jacket then, sending Nancy a smile. "Maybe you can get him to lighten up a bit, Nancy. You'd think solving a high-profile murder would put him in a better mood!"

Frank shook his head as his father left, then covered her hands with his other hand, steering them both towards the hospital cafeteria. "So how are you really feeling?" he asked.

"Sore." Nancy admitted. "All over my body. I don't remember the actual crash, but these bruises are really giving me new respect for the term 'hard water.'"

"Yeah..." Frank said softly, not elaborating. Nancy could see now what Fenton had meant by Frank being moody.

"I'm a fast healer though." she reminded him brightly. "The bruises will be gone soon enough. In fact... what say we forget the coffee and you just sneak me out of here right now?" She gave him a cheeky grin to let him know she was teasing.

"Hm, I don't know, Nan." he raised an eyebrow, teasing her back, "You might get some stares strolling around Philly in that getup."

Nancy looked down at what she was wearing: two hospital gowns, the second one worn backwards and cinched around her waist like a robe. She laughed. "I'd get a lot more stares strolling around in just one." she said. "I made Joe steal me an extra so I could walk around without flashing everybody."

Frank smiled tightly, not saying anything.

_Ah._ Nancy thought. She wasn't exactly surprised to find out that Joe was the source of Frank's bad-moodiness, but it was still a little worrisome.

They reached the cafeteria and grabbed a couple of cups of coffee before sitting down in a booth in the corner. Nancy nursed her cup slowly, not wanting to have to return to her room too soon. "You don't have to be so mad at Joe." she said finally. "He's punishing himself better than anyone else could."

Frank snorted. "I can't believe you're letting him off that easy."

"Who said anything about letting him off easy?" Nancy grinned. "He's bending over backwards to be nice to me. I can get him to do anything I want. I'm really enjoying it."

Frank pushed his cup of coffee aside. "Nan..."

The smile fell from her face as their eyes met across the table. Frank could always see what she was thinking; there was no use trying to deny it. "All right, I'm mad." she admitted. "No, you know what, it's not even that I'm mad. I'm freaked out."

"Of course you are. You almost died today." Frank said quietly.

"It's not that, exactly..." Nancy mused, idly tracing the patterns on the tabletop with the tip of her finger. "I've had plenty of close calls. It's just, I guess I'm not used to us making mistakes on cases—any of us. Before, we seemed invincible. We always knew what to do. Now it's like, we can make bad judgment calls and they could get us killed. And if it can happen to Joe, it can happen to me."

Frank placed his hand on top of hers, stilling her fingers. "Are you okay?"

It was a question she couldn't really answer. What did you say when your whole worldview had suddenly shifted, however slightly? When you learned that the people you trusted to catch you _could_ let you fall? Or worse, that you could fail someone who trusted _you_? "I'll manage." she said finally.

"This whole case sucked."

"Yeah, it did." Nancy agreed, withdrawing her hand. She took a sip of hot coffee, hiding her smile behind her cup as she said, "I liked my last undercover job a lot better."

Frank smiled, for real this time, and a warmth bloomed in Nancy's stomach that had nothing to do with the coffee. "Me too." he said. She had just enough time to blush before he continued, "This isn't how I thought things would be, between us, after that."

Nancy didn't know what to say. As they'd wrapped up their last case, in Egypt, undercover as a married couple, she and Frank had mutually agreed that things wouldn't change between them, that they would remain nothing more than close friends despite the romantic tension they'd both felt simmering under the surface. "What did you think would be different?"

He shrugged. "I didn't think we'd be working against each other. I didn't think we'd all be at each other's throats. I never thought Joe would do something like this..." He ran a hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was deep in thought. "I was kind of nervous about working with you again."

"Why?" Nancy asked, almost shyly.

"I guess I was worried that I'd screw up with you again, cross a line, do something unprofessional." Frank said, staring into his coffee. "Shouldn't have worried. Joe took care of that for the both of us."

"What?" Nancy frowned. "First of all, I don't lump you and Joe together like that. And second, Joe's sabotaging this investigation is nothing like what happened in Egypt."

"It might be connected, though... Joe was acting a little jealous since you came on the scene of the Bellamy case. I figured he just felt left out because you and I worked so well together. I really never guessed he'd get Brenda involved just to mess things up for you." Frank said. "That first morning on the case, you told Buff you were lucky you had two guys in the city you could rely on." he continued guiltily. "I can't stop thinking about that."

"That hasn't changed." Nancy said with a soft smile. "Of course I still trust you both. You would never hurt me intentionally, and I know Joe wouldn't either. Heck, you proved today for the hundredth time that I can trust you with my life. I don't blame Joe for what happened, and I certainly don't blame you."

"_I_ blame him." Frank said seriously, so quietly that Nancy might not have heard him if he hadn't had her complete attention.

She stared at him. It was not the kind of thing she'd ever expected to hear Frank Hardy say about his brother. "What?"

"I know you're right, that he made a dumb mistake, and that the fact that it happened to put you in danger was just bad luck and lousy timing. But when I saw the flaming wreckage of that boat, I thought... If you had died, Nan, how could I have ever forgiven him? I would have lost you both."

"Frank..."

"I know it's the big elephant in the room, the one we're not supposed to talk about, but you're special to me, Nancy."

He was right; he wasn't supposed to say things like that, not now, not to her, despite that they both knew they were true. Slowly, Nancy put down her coffee and scooted out of the booth, coming around to the other side of the table to slide in beside him. Her abused body protested the movements, but she needed to be closer to him. "I'm alive."

Frank reached over and pushed a few strands of hair off her face before running his thumb over her cheekbone, tracing the outline of her black eye. "You weren't breathing."

She was having a hard time breathing now, too, and it had nothing to do with her injuries or the near-drowning. "I'm alive." she repeated, ignoring the little shiver that went through her. "You and Joe saved me... although I'm trying really hard not to think about him doing CPR on me." she joked weakly.

He didn't smile.

"Hey... we'll get past this, Frank. It will just take a little time." She had managed to smooth things over so easily with Joe, and she wished she could do the same to ease Frank's mind. "Joe's not ever going to do anything like this again, and you guys will go right back to normal. And you and I..." she trailed off and shrugged.

Finally, his expression softened. "Will go right back to normal." he finished with a half-smile.

"Exactly." she agreed, nudging him with her shoulder and regretting it when it set her arm throbbing.

He noticed; of course he did. "We'd better get you back to your room. Let's go, Drew."

Nancy complied, scooting out of the booth regretfully. "But it's so boring..."

"Get Joe to get you a crossword puzzle or something." Frank said, leading her out of the cafeteria with a gentle hand on the small of her back.

Nancy laughed. "That's the spirit. But you're thinking too small. I bet I can get him to put on a puppet show."

Frank couldn't bite back a smile of his own at the thought. "Doubtful."

"You're on." Nancy shot back with a grin. It would be worth making the request just to see the look on Joe's face... and Frank's.

The looming shock of her near-death experience was beginning to fade, as it always did, and there was no doubt in Nancy's mind that she'd been right when she told Frank that they would be back to normal by the time the next case rolled around.

They always were.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I wasn't planning to do a third chapter to this, but LazyPanther rightly pointed out that Nancy is hardly the only one who needed closure from this incident, so I did my best to resolve things between our boys too. Thanks a million to LazyPanther, max2013, Caranath, and Jabba1, as well as everyone else who read and favorited. Enjoy!

* * *

Frank backed slowly into the hall, closing Nancy's hospital room door silently behind him, and cast a reluctant glance around for his brother. Joe was still slumped in one of the uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs lined up at the end of the hall, must have been sitting there for over an hour, but Frank couldn't bring himself to feel too much sympathy. Without the distraction of Nancy's company, it was all too easy to slip back into his bad mood... especially when he found himself alone with Joe for the first time since he'd confessed to sabotaging the investigation.

Joe straightened up when he saw him. "How's she doing?"

"She's asleep now. Whatever they gave her for the pain put her right out."

Joe flinched. "The pain's pretty bad, huh?"

Frank shrugged. "Well, you know Nan. She won't be down for long."

His tone, coupled with his noncommittal answer, was a clear signal that he didn't want to talk, and Joe evidently picked up on it, because he gathered his stuff and followed Frank toward the parking garage silently. On one hand, it was actually a little unnerving, having Joe trail somberly behind him, metaphorical tail between his legs. Silent and somber were words that could rarely be applied to Joe Hardy.

On the other hand, Frank was grateful that Joe wasn't trying to pretend things were normal.

Frank unlocked the rental car and they got in. There was a heaviness to his movements as he started the car and pulled out of the space. After this long nightmare of a day, their hotel room felt like a finish line. If he could just keep moving, keep up the momentum a little bit longer, he could reach it. And if he kept himself busy, concentrated on that goal, he wouldn't have to address the issue with Joe.

Unfortunately, it was early evening and the Philadelphia traffic was moving at a crawl. And staring at the unmoving car in front of you was a poor excuse for a distraction.

"Come on, Frank. Let's have it." Joe said finally, the silence in the car apparently too much for him to bear.

Frank gripped the steering wheel just a little bit harder. "What do you want me to do, Joe? Give you a lecture? Say I'm disappointed in you? I'm not Dad; I don't have to parent you."

"So, what, you're just not going to talk to me, is that it?" Joe pressed.

"That was my plan for tonight, anyway." Frank answered tightly.

"Okay," Joe said. "Then I'll talk."

"Wonderful."

"Frank, I'm trying to apologize, here." Joe said, a little bit of frustration tingeing his voice. "I thought Buff was guilty, so I tried to shut down the whole investigation by leaking the story to the media. I acted like a total jerk, and I was wrong, and I'm sorry about that."

The apology was good to hear, but it wasn't enough. Frank nodded stiffly, still staring through the windshield, when to his surprise, Joe continued.

"I never meant to put anyone in danger, not Nancy, and especially not you. The guy at the restaurant—"

"Oh, so you remember that, do you?" Frank certainly hadn't forgotten the bartender he'd questioned about the leak who also happened to be a nervous parolee with a twitchy trigger finger. It chilled Frank's blood to think about how he'd nearly been killed for no reason—it had been mere bad luck that he'd chosen such a desperate suspect to question. Bad luck... and the fact that Joe had known all along and failed to tell him who was _really _responsible for the leaks.

"I tried to convince you to leave him alone."

"You know what would have been really convincing? Telling me the truth." Frank said coolly.

"I know. I'm sorry." Joe sighed miserably. "I had no idea he was armed, Frank. Trust me, when he pulled that gun on you, no one was more scared than I was."

"I beg to differ."

"No, I'm serious." Joe said. "If I'd known it would come to that, I would have told you it was me. In a heartbeat."

He _was _being serious, and Frank felt his righteous anger begin to deflate despite himself. "Fine, but—"

"You can't possibly think I wasn't terrified when I thought you might get shot. And that it might be my fault."

He was almost pleading now, but Frank couldn't just let it go. Not completely. He needed to understand why Joe had done it. "Not terrified enough not to do the same thing to Nancy a few days later."

"It was too late." Joe said. "By that time I'd called Brenda. I regretted it, but it was already done. And then... I just thought it would blow over. I honestly thought Brenda was just an annoyance, and that she wouldn't really jeopardize Nancy."

"Look, I know you never meant to hurt anybody. I never thought you did. Which is why I'm so freaked out." Frank confessed. "You can't do things like sabotage an investigation. And you can't lie to me. We have to be able to trust each other, Joe."

"I know." Joe answered seriously. "I don't know what else to say, Frank."

When you broke it down logically, it all came down to one question: had what had happened broken his trust in Joe? That complete, implicit faith that they'd always had in each other that had saved their lives more times than Frank could count?

"I never considered you a suspect before." Frank said, finally putting the betrayal into words. He softened the blow by adding, "And I'm not going to start now."

Joe read between the lines. "So... you forgive me."

"Yeah. I do." Frank said. Saying it felt like a weight off his chest, and he was sure it felt the same for Joe. "Besides," he added, "Nan told me you were punishing yourself more than anyone else could; I think she's probably right."

Joe nodded, but he couldn't hide a little, relieved smile. "You know, she accepted my apology, but... I think if she'd known about how I almost got you shot, she wouldn't have forgiven me so easily."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I didn't think she wanted me dead." Somewhere, though, part of him kind of liked the idea that his close call would have made some impression on her. God knew he'd been forced to face his feelings for her in stark, frightening detail this morning.

"You know what I mean." Joe said. "I know I've been giving you a hard time about her on this case, but it's nothing against her. I was just angry that her dad made us look like idiots."

"I sensed that." Frank said dryly.

"But Nan's... pretty special. I think it's great that you guys are—" Frank shot him a warning glance and Joe amended his statement quickly. "...whatever."

"Joe..." Frank's earlier talk with Nancy had made him feel better about the current state of their relationship, but it was definitely not something that was up for discussion with Joe.

"I know. Sorry." Just when it seemed like he actually knew when to shut up, he added, "...But your kids? Would be _so nosy_."

"I _will_ leave you on the side of the road."

"Sorry. I'm done."

Frank sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. As ever, Nancy had been right.

Everything was back to normal.


End file.
